


Warriors, Metal Arms and Bucket Lists

by cat_whiskers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Cancer, M/M, Support Groups, inspired by the fault in our stars, no powers, tw: major character death at end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_whiskers/pseuds/cat_whiskers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone told Steve Rogers once that everyone he meets has the potential to impact on his existence, and that he can change someone else's existence in the same way.<br/>He never listened until he met a fellow survivor. The man with the metal arm. The man with the hidden smile.<br/>He never understood the impact until he collided with Bucky Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a rather self-centered name, if I do say so myself. Naming a treatment centre after yourself. I mean, fine, if it was your home, but a treatment center? Really?  
I approached Stark Towers, as I do every week, with a grimace on my face - there’s nothing stopping me from not going, but I don’t want to leave. Still, it doesn't make the journey there any less unpleasant.   
My name is Steve Rogers and when I was 21, I was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer.   
Thankfully, it was still in the early stages.   
Did the diagnosis change my life? Of course it did. But thanks to surgery and ongoing radiotherapy, I survived, and at age 24, I’m still standing - as cheesy as that   
phrase is. Turns out getting it treated whilst it’s in the early stages really does save your life. I’m currently predicted to have a normal lifespan, and I’m expected to live for at least another 7 years.

Let’s party.

These meetings are more for the ‘emotional’ side of cancer, for speaking to other people who ‘understand what you’re going through’. Really, it’s just an excuse to get out of the house, an easily avoidable activity that can bring little pleasure to many. The constant staring whenever you leave the house wears you down very quickly. 

The receptionist recognizes me, and we exchange a smile as I summon the lift. Stepping into the lift, I fail to notice the presence of another person behind me until the doors close and I choose the support group’s floor. When I spot the dark-haired man standing in the corner, I start for a few seconds, before hesitantly waiting for him to select a floor also. 

He remains still.

“You going anywhere, pal?” Slowly, his eyes trail up from the speck of dust on the ground to meet my gaze. He nods, and points at the lit up button that I pressed previously.  
“Oh, so you’re new?”  
He doesn't respond, looking down at the floor again.   
“Are you okay?” The man makes the slightest nod, and that’s when I knows I have to get this silent warrior out of his shell. Because that’s what we are really - we’re warriors, fighting a battle against ourselves. We’re fighting a war together, and some people will lose, and some people will win, and some people will just keep fighting. 

At this point, I am momentarily blinded by a flash, which almost makes me jump (but not quite). Looking around, I can’t understand what happens until I spot a reflective glint on his arm.   
Further inspection proves that he has a metal arm.   
I've been ‘lucky’ enough to only have a crappy breathing system - I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to find out that your only chance of survival is amputation. I know they have psychologists and social workers, all those well-meaners, but nothing can come close to the pure horror it would be. To know that for the rest of your life, no matter where you go or who you are with, no one will care for your personality because all they will do is treat you like an inferior. Like a child. Pity you, never take you seriously, all because you went through the horror of having a limb taken from your body. 

This world can be sickening, sometimes. 

Within the silent seconds I stare at him, the lift flies up the tower, and we arrive on the fifty-second floor in silence. I notice him following as I exit, and I grin. Maybe I’ll get to learn this elusive stranger a bit better in the next hour or so.

Janet, the group leader, sits at the front, as the circle of ‘oddities’ forms. Her slouched form only further proves the misery that the meetings have become - if our leader can’t pull a smile onto her face, what hope is there for the rest of us? It’s quite disheartening, to be honest. ‘I’m deeply sad to report that Jessica died last week… Does anyone need a moment?... Here’s a tissue, Jack… Let’s say some prayers, okay?... Alright, moving on now…’  
You could switch the names every week, because the situation always ends the same.

Around me is the quiet mumbling that is only found at slightly forced social events - then the meeting starts, and it all quietens.

One by one, we go around the circle - name, cancer, stage, reason for living. It’s a bit pathetic really, but then you hear the people who go silent at the end and it doesn't feel quite as stupid as you once thought.  
“Hey. I’m Steve, I have papillary thyroid cancer, currently in remission after treatment for stage 1.”  
“What’s your reason for living, Steve?” Janet asked everyone else the exact same question, and my answer has never changed before today. I take a second to get the attention of tall, dark and mysterious, and reply clearly,  
“I want to see the stars.” When I sit down afterwards, he’s still looking at me oddly. I grin smugly, and the woman besides me stands up.

We go around the circle, and he’s last. With the way he stares down at his feet, and the way his hands are clearly shaking, I almost don’t expect him to stand up. But he does.  
“My name is James Barnes, but call me Bucky. I have osteosarcoma, it spread to my nerves and blood cells so that’s why I have this,” he holds out his prosthetic arm, and to what would seem like his surprise nobody bats an eyelid, “Stage 2, but I’m currently in remission, and I still have things I want to do before I die, so I want to live until I do them.” He sits down, and Janet doesn't say anything for a second, before making the offer of tea. A hum of agreement follows and then the group follows her into the kitchens. I search out Bucky amongst the crowd, when I spot the lift door shutting. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where he’s gone.

“Bucky!” Even as I run up, breathing heavily, I know I’m too late.


	2. Chapter 2

I end up getting tea with the others, hoping that Bucky will return next week or something. It’s probably stupid, but I wanted to know him better. Someone who hides in silence has a story.  
I just don’t get why he ran away.  
I understand he could’ve been scared, but no one was hurting him or anything. Maybe he just had some issues or something. Nobody has a perfect life, a perfect story.  
But everyone has one. Everyone has a story - some are just more secret than others. Whilst sipping away at the cooling drink, a lady with bright red hair suddenly appears in front of me.  
“Good morning, Steve.” She sticks her hand out to me, and I have little choice other than to shake it.

“Morning...” I wrack my brains for a name, recognizing the face from a few meetings. Eventually, a name appears in my mind. “Natasha. How are you?”  
“Fine, thank you. Now, let’s get this over fast - I’m not talking to you because I like small talk. You don’t particularly enjoy small talk either, do you?” I shake my head, somewhat confused as to her purpose, “Right, good. I’m talking to you about the rather exceptional matter of Bucky Barnes.”  
My eyes must light up at his name or something, because she gives me a brief judgmental stare, before sighing and continuing. “Bucky Barnes is a rather exceptional man, that much is certain. First off, he’s an army veteran at only twenty five years old. He was honourably discharged two years ago, and less than a week after his return he was diagnosed with osteosarcoma and, you know, got his arm chopped off about two weeks after. He didn’t cry at any point, and refused to be on anything other than the most basic painkillers. The doctors thought he was nuts. This was when I met him - I’m a volunteer at the bone cancer ward of the hospital he was in,” I stared at Natasha for a moment, not really associating the not-all-that-friendly face with volunteering in a hospital, “believe it or not.”  
“So you’ve known him for about two years then?”  
“Yes. I was his girlfriend.” Surprise runs through me so quickly I almost step backwards. Is this a warning off of him or something? Did I project vibes or anything? Oh crap, crap, crap… “We aren’t together anymore, though. He’s still the closest thing I have to a best friend, however, which is why it’s my responsibility to talk to you.”  
“Me? Why?”  
“Cut the crap, Steve.” Rolling her eyes and holding her mug to her chest, she continues, “I saw how you look at him, how he looks at you. I wasn’t born yesterday. Bucky Barnes never speaks without a purpose.”  
“And?”  
“You know how he spoke, just then? That wasn’t for this crappy meeting. That was for you.” Silence reigned supreme for a few seconds, as Natasha and I looked closely at each other. I don’t understand, or want to understand, what she’s implying. “Now, I’m not an idiot - and neither are you. He obviously likes you, or he most certainly wouldn’t have looked up from his feet at any point during this meeting, let alone actually speak. Barnes is a quiet guy, so don’t push him because he could break easily. As Bucky’s best friend, you seem like a decent enough guy for him, should you two start dating - but break his heart, and I’ll break your neck.”  
“There’s-there’s nothing between us Natasha, I don’t like him like that.” I defend myself quickly, because, sure, he’s a lovely guy and, yeah, he’s attractive, I get that, but I don’t like him. I’m not like that. I just want to be his friend. By this point, the rest of the room had descended into almost-silence and we were the only two voices to be heard. When the nosy crowd realise their earwigging had been noticed, a sudden low chatter sprung up around us - though it was clear to both of us that not one word we spoke would go unheard now.  
“Goddamn you men and your ‘no homo’-ness.” She suddenly switched into a stream of what sounded like Russian, making me start for a second before she pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapping it a few times before turning it to me. “Look, here’s his number. Just don’t mention where you got it from, okay? Unless he asks. If he asks, don’t lie. Don’t ever lie to him.” As I typed in the number to my own phone, Natasha also gave me another,  
“And if all hell breaks loose, which is quite likely knowing Bucky, here’s my number. Treat him well, Steve.” With that, she disappeared.

Checking the numbers over once more, I finished my long since cold-tea. I can spot a vague crowd-split through which I presume Natasha exited the room from. As I head over to the sink, intending on washing up my mug and ‘doing my bit’ (not like I had anything better to do at the time, anyway), curious eyes follow me. I try to ignore the whispers of “him and the new guy”, “what’s his name? Bucky?” “so they’re gay?” as I scrub the stains off the ceramic. As I open the drawer to put away my mug, I’m hit with the stench of detergent from the constant-cleanliness of the kitchen. It’s something I’ve become well-acquainted with, through the meetings at the tower. Grabbing my jacket from the peg by the elevator, I press a few buttons, step through the doors, and leave Stark Towers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Moolly013, my wonderful beta! Sorry this is late, I had a few technical issues and was very busy over the past week. I'm going to try and keep this updating on Thursday, but no promises as of yet. However, I will try and make sure one chapter is up per week. If you want to say hi, my tumblr is catwhiskersandalpcas.tumblr.com  
> Please leave kudos, comments and bookmarks! They make me and Moolly013's day.  
> See you next week! -Cat  
> (P.S: I'd appreciate it if the comments are a no-spoiler zone for both tfios book and movie. Thank you!!!)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Big thanks to my beta, who is helping me with this. Please leave kudos and comments, and the next chapter should be up shortly. - Cat


End file.
